


Angry Kiss

by QueenoftheProcrastination



Series: Tales of the Avvar [4]
Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Almost smut, Arguments, Avvar AU, Avvar Cullen, F/M, Making Out
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-10
Updated: 2015-07-10
Packaged: 2018-04-08 14:19:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 894
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4308390
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenoftheProcrastination/pseuds/QueenoftheProcrastination
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cullen and Elena have an argument after she disobeys him</p>
            </blockquote>





	Angry Kiss

**Author's Note:**

> Set in my Captivated (Avvar AU) canon. Not necessarily sequential with other works.

“Cullen, it was my fault, I asked Rosie to show me–” Elena began, twisting a lock of wet hair through her fingers.

“Did I not,” he interrupted, “tell you  _both_  to say in the hold?”

Cullen regarded the two women standing before him in the kitchen of his home. Both were soaked from head to toe, their long hair plastered to their necks and shoulders. He crossed his arms, waiting for them to being making excuses; Rosalie, at least, had the good sense to look sheepish. Elena on the other hand, well, his fierce lowlander woman wouldn’t be herself if she wasn’t glaring right back at him. 

Rose and Elena exchanged looks. “Yes, of course, but–”

Cullen pinched the bridge of his nose.“Rosalie, go dry off and change,” he ordered, keeping his eyes trained on the red-headed woman before him.

Giving them both one last glance, Rose stalked off to the backroom she shared with Mia while Cullen crossed his arms over his chest again, his gaze sweeping over Elena’s form. She had her arms crossed over her breasts, mimicking his stance, though perhaps not consciously, with her lovely face set in a frown. The wet fabric of her gown clung to ever curve and turn of her body. She must have been freezing–the river he had pulled her from was always icy at this time of year. Still, he pushed aside the thought of taking her into his arms and warming her. He was still angry after all. 

“Honestly, Cullen, we would have been fine,” she snapped, unable to bear the heavy silence and sternness of his gaze. 

He raised an eyebrow. “Fine? You could have been taken by another clan! I told you that things have been tense between us and Stone Bear hold. Another warrior could have easily fished you out of that river if I hadn’t come along. To say nothing of you both drowning!”

The thought of another man taking her from him made his blood boil, but he tried to keep his temper under control–shouting would only make her shout back. Yet despite his efforts at self-restraint Elena’s scowl deepened and she dropped her arms only to poke him squarely in the chest. 

“You really think I’d spread my legs for any warrior who happened along?” She snapped, her eyes flashing. 

Cullen took a step towards her, grasping her slight shoulders in his hands, though he resisted the urge to shake her–he needed to make her understand how serious this had been. 

“No,” he hissed, leaning in closer to her. “But I doubt you’d be able to resist an avvar warrior if he set his mind to forcing you.”

“I resisted you,” her reply was sharp, her tongue hurling out her words around purple tinged lips. 

“I never forced you,” he snarled, voice somehow still low even in his anger.  

Her face softened for a just a moment, as she considered the truth of his words, but the anger still sizzled under the surface of her gaze. 

Cullen was suddenly, painfully aware of how their bodies were pressed flush against each other, her cold seeping under his flesh and into his veins, but  _oh_ , he could feel the hard pebbles of her nipples against his too hot skin. By the Mountain Father, his woman made him crazy–Cullen wanted nothing more than to pin her to the floor and fuck her senseless, to fuck the insolence and disobedience out of her until she was boneless and languid in his arms. Only then would he kiss her tenderly from head to toe and tell her what a fright she had given him with her antics. 

“Are you going to punish me? Take me over your knee and spank me again?” She was baiting him, though whether she wished to stoke his anger or lust, Cullen couldn’t tell–perhaps both. 

He took a deep breath and let his eyes wander down to where her breasts strained prettily against her wet, clinging dress. Licking his lips, Cullen watched the way her eyes focused on his mouth and her slight gasp at his movements. He could feel himself responding to her–to how close she was, to the way she made his blood hot and his cock harden.

“No, you’d enjoy it too much,” he growled. 

She raised her hand, ready to lay a stinging slap across his cheek, but he caught her wrist just in time. They glared at each other, heaving breaths hard and sharp as they mingled in the air. And then, suddenly, her mouth was on his. She was all harshness and teeth as she crushed herself to him. Cullen moaned, deep in the back of his throat, and lifted her, pinning her bodily to him. She wrapped her legs around his waist as her tongue pressed past his lips, wanting, seeking,  _demanding._ He took a step forward, laying her down on the table and pushing the wet fabric of her skirt up around her thighs. She arched against him, purring as his rough hands ghosted up the smooth expanse of her legs. 

“I think I’ll enjoy this rather more than spanking,” she murmured, lips tracing the firm line of his jaw as her hand scrambled at the laces of his breeches. 

Cullen chuckled and captured her lips again in a bruising kiss. “ _Good_.”


End file.
